


Awake, Arise, or be Forever Fallen

by EbonyAura



Series: MEGOP WEEK 2020 [6]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: #megopweek2020, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Banishment, Betrayal, Biblical Themes, Fallen Angels, Graphic Description, HAPPY MEGOP WEEK, Hell, Horror, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Soulmate AU, Wrongful Imprisonment, reference to impending revenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:01:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22131475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyAura/pseuds/EbonyAura
Summary: HAPPY MEGOP WEEK!Day 4: Soulmate AUCast away to Hell by the Creator long ago, Megatron waits, lamenting if the day should come that his brother follows.That day has arrived.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Series: MEGOP WEEK 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583281
Comments: 1
Kudos: 41
Collections: MegOP Week 2020





	Awake, Arise, or be Forever Fallen

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be honest, I find the whole soulmate thing ridiculous and boring. 
> 
> So I sent my muses to hell. They're not all that happy about it.
> 
> There's soulmate themed content in here, I just didn't focus on it. Squint; you'll see it.
> 
> Warning for some graphic horror and torture cause hell's not sunshine and rainbows. This is probably the least fluffy thing I've ever written, and there's still some sap in here. That's sad.

Whispers crawled over arches of rugged stone, dragged by scalding winds. They called to him, singing like sirens, reciting a song he’d long forgotten.  
  
Megatron stilled, tilting his head to listen better. It was no illusion, nor delusions or fantasy. Their melody was distorted and torn by the echo of screams, but chants brushed against his audials, crooned like an ancient lullaby.  
  
How long he had rotted in this prison to hear that song again.  
  
Something deep in the recesses of his frame seemed to awaken, wriggling and stretching like a parasite. It was a bloom of warmth and light, pitifully small and flickering sporadically. His claws convulsed, digging and curling into the soft tissue they’d shredded. A long, low snarl emanated from his chest, and the damaged limbs on his back twitched.  
  
_At long last, you’ve finally come._  
  
There was no doubt of it. Those faint chants belonged to only one being in this existence.  
  
Crimson optics arose back into sharp focus, sliding down towards the victim who’d dared to breach his caves just minutes before. Thick globs of meat and blood lay smeared over him and the ground. Its body was now concave, eviscerated of organs and bones that lay in his servos. Pathetic wheezes from a gargling mouth gave hint to the wisps of life yet attached.  
  
Torture, no matter how severe, did not lead to death when one was trapped in the underworld.  
  
Megatron sneered, flinging organs away with a disgusted flick of his claws. He rose to his peds, bringing one back to kick the living corpse out of his sight. It flew over the edge of an endless mouth, falling into a bottomless cliff. He snorted derisively at it like a stallion, a blip of satisfaction rising before fading. The scent of its fluids assaulted his olfactory sensors, and he flicked his arms one more time to be rid of most of its contents. The rest of it would dry soon enough.  
  
His gaze turned out towards the landscape beyond his caves. Somewhere, on the far side of its inexistent horizon, the whispers continued to crawl toward his reach. Their owner may be far, trapped in the throes of agony and desolation, but they would lay out the trail. He would show Megatron the way, just as he always had.  
  
The familiar parasite in his core wriggled harder, pooling warmth into its cold, cruel entrapment. Megatron’s servo absently rose to his chest, curling into a fist at the sensation. He growled, cursing the weakness.  
  
There was only one thing he could do now.  
  
Stretching the tattered limbs on his back, Megatron leapt down into the mouth of the cliff before swooping up on the winds of bellowing fires.  
  
Thus began the search for his other half in the sweltering depths of Hell.  
  
***  
  
Time was an insignificant concept amidst lakes of flame and wails of tortured souls.  
  
But that did not stop it from passing, slowly moving along like the crust that ground into itself on the surface. One could picture it grinding down all in its way, devouring mountains, drying oceans, slaughtering lives without need of a weapon.  
  
It must have been eons that passed since Megatron had fallen into this unendurable prison.  
  
How much time had now passed in his search? Weeks? Months? Years?  
  
He did not know. Time did not matter anymore.  
  
Megatron scoured the underworld, steadily following the trail of whispers only he could hear. Every blood-covered battlefield. Every pit of immovable corpses. Every spout of blistering explosions. Every cell crammed over-full with shrieking mortals. Every frigid slab standing next to a table of torturous tools. No corner was left unchecked, but every one turned up empty of the one he was looking for.  
  
_Where are you?_  
  
The parasite in his chest steadily grew more powerful, glowing brighter, becoming hotter. It clouded his thoughts, sweeping over his sanity-reduced mind. It poised his base instincts to this single task.  
  
_Where are you?  
_  
The whispers he followed never changed. They never rose in volume or intensity as he began to near their source. Their chants were always faint, always distorted, always familiar. If they were a dream, they would’ve faded. But his audials rang with their song, long lost memories of a previous life rousing from where they’d been shut into the back of his mind.  
  
If he were anymore pitiful of a being, he would’ve reveled in their comfort.  
  
As a creature of the underworld, he did not.  
  
The only way he knew his destination crept closer was an increasing number of demons in his way, roused and agitated by the arrival of a mysterious, powerful being in their realm. Megatron never aided them to be wiser about who it was, simply continued on. Their screeches echoed throughout the caverns, between the sharp hooks of swinging chains and over the piles of weeping carcasses. They grew louder with each inch he gained, and Megatron followed them all the way to the middle of Hell.  
  
There, they went silent, and the parasite in his core writhed in wretched anticipation.  
  
He landed before what looked to be a rundown shack smashed into the side of another cliff. From the outside, it seemed insignificant. But the limbs on his back trembled painfully from the evil that emanated from it. The shattered windows on its sides were too dark. Pitch black spilled out and streamed down creaking planks. Crimson optics took in the building, knowing well that it wasn’t as empty as it looked.  
  
Megatron trudged forward, staring into the dark, open doorway with an expression absent of emotion. As he entered, the pitch black engulfed him, licking at his armor and burrowing into his seams, attempting to penetrate what had already been turned. It fell away like dry skin as he walked. And just as he entered, he exited the emptiness, stepping into the shack’s ancient and rusting interior.  
  
The parasite became so hot it scorched his insides.  
  
Angry screams and shrieks greeted him like war cries, enlightening him to who was within. Body-less demons watched him from the walls. Faceless entities stood motionless, turned towards him. Tortured mortals hung from the ceiling, some by ropes around their necks, others by grappling hooks impaled through their limbs. Their moans resonated through the space. Eyes glowed from holes in the floor, joined by hands reaching out to yank victims below. Fluids stained the wood, flesh conglomerated in piles around the room.  
  
At the far end there stood a cage, containing the only source of light that could withstand a shack of perdition.  
  
Crimson optics narrowed ominously, glaring at all whom surrounded him. Silently, Megatron lumbered through them, the limbs on his back raising in warning. None approached. The hands in the floor shrunk away from his peds, heads of the faceless entities turned to follow his progress. None dared to stop him. There were many vicious beings in the underworld, but none powerful enough to withstand his might, or the might of what lay in the cage.  
  
Megatron approached it slowly, cautiously, eyeing the structure of the bars before gazing down at the entity trapped within. Enormous, metallic-feathered wings glowed lowly against the darkness, wrapped over their owner to hide him from view. They still glowed, reflecting a dim light that once came from a place above the underworld. Above the mortal world. Ancient memories grappled for his attention, recalling that they used to be the purest silver. Now, they were dull, tainted by intricate purple lines that spread over them like disease.  
  
His own wings twitched, their tattered remains shimmering similar colors.  
  
A booming snarl shook the room as his focus returned to the structure of the cage. There was no door, but that would not stand in his way. He raised his claws, grasping one of the cool metal bars and ripping it out of place, throwing it away. The wings of the being inside flinched, curling tighter around their owner as he ripped the next bar away, then the next, flinging them backward at the entities littering the shack.  
  
When half of the bars were gone, he stopped. Then he knelt, his claws reaching out to stroke those dim and sickly angelic wings.  
  
“Hello Optimus,” he rumbled, tracing the familiar arch of the limbs. “I’ve been searching for you.”  
  
They shuddered at the first touch but settled as he spoke. A few moments passed afterwards in silence, and then they shifted. He watched as they parted, lifting away to sink behind their owner’s shoulder pauldrons. The other being’s body was covered in battle scars, his once vibrant colors nothing more than a grim silver accented by those creeping purple lines. His optics, previously deep blue, were so bleak in color they could’ve been called gunmetal grey. They shuttered a few times before hazily concentrating on him.  
  
The parasite he once recognized as his spark pulsed at the sight of the fallen angel, his other half, for the first time in eons.  
  
***  
  
The stench of vermin had engulfed his caves in his absence. Now it leaked away, dissipating as Megatron snatched them from the tunnels and threw each of them over the cliff. He forewent their punishment, only intent on ridding the mortal souls from his sight.  
  
He scanned the caverns above him, then the landscape beyond the mouth of his cave once more, confirming nothing unwanted had followed them here. When nothing revealed itself to him, satisfaction poked through his lines, and he turned back into the tunnel.  
  
His other half was hidden just beyond the entrance, turned away from the mouth and staring sightlessly into the dark abyss of the caverns. He’d sunken to his knees, and his wings had fallen to lay behind him on the ground. Megatron huffed at the pitiful sight this once magnificent being made of himself, sauntering toward him.  
  
“I told you he would do this.”  
  
He spoke, walking around to stand in front of him. The other did not respond.  
  
“Humanity is vile, and always will be. Those who see them for what they truly are will be cast to this pit and left to rot… We were never loved by the great creator, we were only there to grovel over his precious human race.”  
  
The growl that bled from his intake surrounded them, so thick and potent that it drowned out the distant screams of the fire’s victims. Megatron glared down at the fallen angel, traces of ancient fury toiling in his spark. Optimus was the better half out of the two of them. His fate should not have been destined to Hell. But it always had been, just like Megatron’s. He'd wanted to deny it, but he’d always known it. Similarly to their meeting in the shack, he knelt in front of him, searching for his gaze.  
  
“You succumb to defeat in the wake of our Creator’s betrayal. Have you no dignity?”  
  
He sneered. His other half’s optics flashed back to attention and glared murderously at him, wings perching high and taunt.  
  
“I have fallen. My dignity has been lost.”  
  
The other angel finally spoke, his voice low and gruff. Megatron leaned forward and slammed his fist into the ground, his tattered wings also going taunt.  
  
“ _Wrong_. You and I have lost nothing but an ostentatious title among our Creator’s ranks. We sought the truth of where his loyalties lie, and for it we were shunned. You are not in the wrong, _you have been wronged._ Thus, your dignity remains intact.”  
  
Optimus glared at him for another minute before his optics dimmed to grey, his wings relaxing as his anger dissipated. His optics traced over Megatron’s ragged wings, an expression between guilt and grief overtaking him.  
  
“… You’ve been down here for so long.”  
  
He lamented softly, his helm falling under the weight of his thoughts.  
  
“I let you fall… It hurt so much, and I never came for you, nor did I question his decision. I never—"  
  
Megatron reached out his claws to stroke over the side of his other half’s faceplates, desisting his rambling before it turned sentimental and melancholy. He shook his helm once.  
  
“You belonged up there, and you were of his highest rank. He wouldn’t have let you come near the underworld if you’d tried. I’m sure they even forbid you from mentioning my name.”  
  
Optimus nodded quietly in affirmation, and Megatron huffed crossly, glaring upwards before focusing back on his other half.  
  
“Do not remorse over actions that couldn’t have been taken. I did not expect them, nor did I seek to put the blame on you for what our Creator did. You were relatively safe in your position, and I was content that you would remain so until the day you might discover what I’d found.”  
  
Silence descended over them, and they both paused to feel the familiar pulse of their sparks in tune. It had been a long time since they’d felt it, so long that both had forgotten what it was like to be whole. Their connection overwhelmed them, its warmth burning at the cold walls built inside their casings. Megatron grunted and twitched, Optimus shuddered. One of his servos flew up to hold the other fallen angel’s claws against his face, inhaling shakily.  
  
“… I missed you, brother.”  
  
The words held every bit of agony and sorrow which had built in him over the eons. As he spoke, his optics flashed their lost blue before returning to grey. Megatron felt a rare pang of mourning for their loss, and with it a brief flash of the spark-split pain he’d hid away for a millennia. Sighing with feigned indignance, he descended to both his knees and turned his claws outward. Grasping the fallen angel’s servo, he tugged it in a silent request.  
  
Optimus heeded it, crawling close enough to lean into his other half’s side and hang onto the blood-stained armor around his shoulders. Megatron pressed the fallen angel’s helm against his chest, watching him close his optics before he wrapped both arms around his frame. His other half’s wings drooped, and his arched up and around them both in a rare show of protectiveness.  
  
“I take it back,” he quipped without venom, “you have lost your dignity.”  
  
Megatron caught the edge of a small grin on his other half’s face and took the opportunity to savor that moment for however long it may last. But moans caught on the wind echoed over his audials. He glanced up, scrutinizing the outside surroundings of the cave out of cautious habit for any movement that may have come with them. Nothing revealed itself. He persisted to scan outside until Optimus shifted closer against him.  
  
“So this is our end,” he murmured, bleak grey optics opening once more. “entombed with mortal souls and their demons until we rust into oblivion and fade from memory.”  
  
Absently, his wings arched closer, and his claws ran over his other half’s side in long strokes. Megatron looked down at him, and then back out at the depths of Hell.  
  
“… It may have been mine and may still be yet. But I will not see it be yours.”  
  
Optimus’s optics shuttered, and he leaned the slightest bit away to glance up at the other fallen angel in confusion. Megatron caught his unasked question, gazing at him with a somewhat soft expression.  
  
“Eternities ago, I once said that for you, I would split the mortal realm open and tear down Heaven. Do you remember?”  
  
His optics flashed and he looked startled, but he nodded. Megatron raised a claw to run it gently over his audial.  
  
“I meant it, brother. You did not deserve this punishment; our creator has gone too far.”  
  
A wrathful, malicious gleam gained from his imprisonment in hell overtook crimson optics, and vehemence bled into his sneer.  
  
“He poisoned the better half of my spark, cast you down in a cage amidst these revolting behemoths… And for that, I will claw my way back to the surface and the heavens to destroy every last being he treasures. This I swear upon my spark, and to you, my brother.”  
  
Optimus gazed at him for a long while, something close to fear gathering in his optics after his other half’s declaration of revenge. But as it appeared, it disappeared, and he leaned his helm back against the other’s chest. No questions were asked, no pleas for mercy on their creator’s behalf were spoken. He was silent, trusting only in the being that scoured Hell itself to release him from the cage.  
  
The wrath in Megatron’s optics never receded as he grasped the fallen angel tightly.  
  
The creator, his angels, and all the disgusting mortals he called precious would pay for the fall of his other half.  
  
_God would pay._


End file.
